Respects
by VoucherMono
Summary: Deidara goes to pay his respects to his Danna. Drabble, non yaoi


Author's Note: I don't know why, I haven't posted anything for awhile. This takes places just after Sasori dies, like directly after Deidara pops out of the ground and finds Zetsu, Tobi and his arm. If you don't know when this is, it's not my fault you don't read the manga. This is just drabble, I'm trying to stay in character so tell me how I do, sorry no yaio.

---

Unwrapping his legs from their choker hold around Tobi's neck, Deidara stood and brushed himself off. A futile attempt, his cloak was incrusted with mud, blood, and other sorts of grim. A mere flick of the wrist would do nothing it improve his appearance. A bath was now ranked high on his to do list.

Sidestepping over the still coughing Tobi he went to retrieve his dismembered limb. It was in sorry condition; the hand-mouth's tongue was hanging out in drooling defeat. It shouldn't be too hard to reattach thought. Kakuzu or Leader could mend it quickly enough and he'd be as right as rain. Besides his arm wasn't overly important, the ring that occupied it was.

Picking up the severed limb, he sighed. All right, now all he had to do was meet up with Sasori-Danna and…

"Come Deidara. We should go get your arm reattached as soon as possible."

Zetsu's dull airy voice caught Deidara's attention. That was right _we_ now only included, Zetsu, Tobi, and himself. Sasori was dead. It was only out of habit that he thought of meeting up with his deceased partner.

"Yeah…" The artist nodded, but didn't move. He had something else on his mind. "Hey Zetsu?"

The Hunter nin hummed, his attention fully captivated.

"Do you think I could see Sasori?" Deidara shuffled awkwardly at the proposal. "You, know just for old times sake, un."

The predatory eyes of Hunter nin gazed at the battered artist. His sides were mentally arguing with each other. The white found no harm with the idea, as long as it was quick. The other side's thoughts were far darker, but eventually they reach an impasse.

"Alright, but you are in need of medical attention…don't take too long…"

Deidara nodded, but as he turned a coarser voice called after him.

"…_**Unless you want to bleed to death." **_

Once again, Deidara gave a curt nod and strode off through the trees. Zetsu's hungry eyes watched the artist's cloaked back grow smaller and smaller. A part of him could understand why Deidara might wish to say a few words to his departed partner; after all, he was still young enough to believe in foolish bonds. His other side could hardly connect, to him Sasori was nothing but a hunk of meatless wood; he was of no further use to the Akatsuki or anyone else.

The dual colored man looked down at Tobi. The Masked nin was still on the ground, rubbing his neck as though it were bruised. Well, it was his fault. Deidara's tolerance did have limits after all.

"Tobi, go with him…"

"Really?" Genuine surprise in the young man's voice as he looked up.

"Yes, if you want to be with the Akasuki you'd better get used to Deidara. By the looks of it you too are going to be spending a lot of time with each other…"

Behind the swirling mask, Zetsu could picture a grinning face as Tobi leapt to his feet.

"You mean, Deidara-san and I might be partners?" He sounded excited.

"_**Isn't that what we just said, now go!**_"

"Yes Zetsu-san!"

The haunting yellow eyes watched the Masked nin bound away, his hast too obvious. Tobi was so ready to please it was almost humorous.

"_**He's like a puppy**_…"

"Yes…"

"_**A**_ _**worthless ball of energy**_…_**"**_

"Puppies grow…"

Zetsu's dark side growled in disagreement at what the fairer was saying. This was yet another subject Zetsu's sides could not come to terms on. It mattered little though, if things went there course Tobi would not be his charge soon enough.

Dipping into his waning chakra supply Deidara gingerly crossed the water to the mouth of the cave. Tobi's light steeps could be heard behind him, but he paid little mind. His thoughts were on other things at the moment.

"You, stay here." Deidara cocked his head briefly toward Tobi. They had reached the opening. "I want to go alone, un"

"But Deidara-san, Zetsu-san said th-"

"I don't care what Zetsu said." Even to him his voice sounded ill-humored. "I want to go alone."

"A-all right…"

Tobi was a little taken back by Deidara's sudden outburst. Not wanting to be put in a stranglehold again, he did the intelligent thing and took up a position at the mouth of the cave. Deidara sent a puff of air through his nostrils in annoyance. Turning away from the now subdued Tobi, he walked into the yawning mouth of the cave.

It was difficult to believe that less than an hour ago he'd flown from this very opening. The inside of the cave was in ruins. He began to doubt its stability, but he wanted to see.

Black lumps dotted the floor. Nudging one with his foot it rolled over onto its back. Deidara discovered that it was only a puppet, broken beyond repair. He walked on, cautiously stepping over the uneven floor. The number of hitokugutsuin(1) creased the further he went. The amount of crushed puppets, wrenched limbs, and scattered weapons was staggering. Truly, a tough battle had been fought here.

"His grandmother and a little girl…" Deidara shook his head not quite believing, but the evidence was all around.

The smell of the cave was starting to get to him. The acidic sour odor was difficult to take; the scent was poison no doubt. He could see the liquid leisurely dripping from the still shining edges of weapons. The puppeteer had been a master of poisons after all.

Burying his nose in the hem of his cloak Deidara let his blue eye wonder. It came to rest on the splintered hull of Hiruko. The puppet lay sprawled on its stomach, the jagged hole in its back spoke of the enormous strength that had shattered it. The oddly shaped head was positioned at an awkward angle; all three jaws were slacked and unhinged. The damage toll did not stop there ether, the pointed steel tail was smashed and scattered, like pearls on a string.

If Hiruko was broken, that meant Sasori had been driven out from his protective shell. The artist picked over the discarded puppets with his eyes and found an even more disturbing site. The third Kazekage puppet lay in a discarded heap. Its many limbs and hinges were bent in an unusual arrangement, all of which lay on top a thick dusting of iron sand. Deidara blinked slowly, that was Sasori's strongest puppet, or had been at least. Looking away from the leftovers Deridara scanned ahead.

On the far end of the cave, a memorable figure with crimson hair stood out. The scope eye zoomed in and low and behold, Deidara had found the puppeteer's body. A barbed mouth like weapon had the body pinned to the wall. The pointed spiky teeth dug deep into the wooden remains, holding it in place. It looked like Sasori, but the hollow chest cavity was empty. Then it really wasn't the puppeteer after all, just a vacant shell.

Deidara hummed to himself; maybe he'd been smashed to splinters just like his creations. Sighing, a little disappointed the artist turned to leave. That was when he saw the huddled bodies on the floor. He looked at them curiously. There were three, the smallest was in the middle, and the larger were on the outside.

Carefully, Deidara stepped over the after battle wreckage and toward the site. He towered over the group examining them. On closer inspection, the larger puppets had their arms wrapped around the smaller, hugging the middle puppet in a close embrace. However, the gesture was far from friendly. Two swords jutted from their tattered sleeves, piercing what looked to be a sealed cylinder in the smaller puppet's chest. He'd found his objective.

The little puppet was not smashed to a pulp, as he would have expected, although one porcelain cheek was cracked. Sasori not been killed by brut force, a hug had done the bidding. A part of Deidara found that slightly humorous, in a pitifully poignant sort of way.

Knelling down Deidara eyed the impaled cylinder. Sasori was dead…

---

'_Sasori-Danna?' Deidara asked._

_Sasori had his hand resting on his lap while the other mended a small fractured joint. Deidara was sickened yet fascinated at the same time as the puppeteer's finger bend the opposite way in the socket. _

'_Yes, Deidara?' The bored eyes looked up at the artist. _

'_Why did you do that to yourself?'_

_Sasori looked from Deidara's face to his hand. Slowly he composed his answer as he slid his finger back into place, a tiny popping sound followed. _

'_Because' He started after a minute. ' A human body is useless to me. It's nothing but a weak mass oft flimsy tissue. It will tear, it will die, and it will rot. It will not last forever…but this body will…' _

_Deidara blinked and couldn't stop the chuckled that came. His laugher caused the puppeteer to narrow his eyes._

'_That's silly Danna, why would you want to live forever. Everything fades eventually no matter what, un'_

_Sasori sighed and shook his head._

'_You just don't understand Brat…'_

---

Deidara chucked softly at the remembered conversation, no he had never fully understood Sasori's views. He had been right though, in the end. Nothing lasted forever, even wood became brittle, and metal rusted. However, Deidara had not come to gloat to the dead. He'd come to do just the opposite.

True, Deidara may have been in the dark about his deceased partner's way of life, but Sasori had done something noteworthy. Through his puppets, he had shown the world that art could be deadly, that one could live for their brand of art, and that one could even become art.

This was why Deidara respected Sasori. Through it all, the puppeteer had remained steadfast to his beliefs. Although he'd never valued Deidara's ideas, Deidara valued Sasori's. For you see the artist lived for art, not just one kind, he appreciated it all. He didn't have to agree with it, but value it nevertheless.

Sasori had been art, right up to the end and that was why Deidara had come to see him. To pay his respects to a fellow artist and masterpiece.

Placing his severed limb down for a moment, Deidara reached out with his good hand. Gently he rested his palm on the skewered heart; it was cold and lifeless to the touch.

He looked at the wooden face. Sasori had always been emotionless, for the longest time Deidara actually thought the puppeteer's face had been chiseled from stone. Now, though his upper lip was curled upward ever so slightly. A smile perhaps? Deidara would never know, maybe it was only a trick of the light, maybe not.

"Good bye…Sasori-Danna."

He patted the silent cylinder once and let a shot lived smile grace his lips. Recollecting his arm the scruffy looking artist stood and drifted wearily out of the cave. He felt little remorse; he had done what he came to do. Besides it was silly, nothing lasted forever; Sasori had to find that out the hard way.

As he exited the cave, Tobi hopped to his feet to greet him.

"That took a long time." It was a simply statement.

"Come on lets go, un" There was a bite in the artist's voice.

Tobi seemed to dance around the tired artist. Deidara wished he had the much energy right now.

"Is Deidara-Senpai upset."

Deidara could feel his eye tick in annoyance. The suffix was aggravating, and to insulate that he was at all upset by Sasori's passing just added insult to injury. Oh, there was irony in this somewhere he just knew it.

"Tobi…" A dry warning laced his tone.

"Yes?"

"Shut-up."

With that Deidara picked put the pace and made his way back to the waiting Zetsu. Tobi pranced along after him. A muffled knowing chuckle leaked out from behind his swirling mask.

"Ok. Tobi is a good boy."

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(1) A puppet that was once a human. Sasori's main means of attack.


End file.
